


Letter of the Law

by Jain



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Character of Color, Community: fandom_stocking, Don't Ask Don't Tell, First Time, M/M, POV Third Person, Past Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-05
Updated: 2010-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-06 23:37:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jain/pseuds/Jain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most civilians figured that the commanders to watch out for, if you were queer and in the service, were the hardliners.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letter of the Law

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sheryden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheryden/gifts).



Most civilians figured that the commanders to watch out for, if you were queer and in the service, were the hardliners, the ones who ate and breathed regs and who filled out their forms in triplicate with looks of grim satisfaction on their faces. In Evan's experience, though, that just wasn't the case. Guys like that, they followed the letter of the law, and they did it with conviction. And in this case, the letter of the law was very clear: if you didn't talk about who turned your crank, you were safe.

There was one time in Antarctica, a general walked in on Evan when he was in bed with a young blond lieutenant, who had the kind of corn-fed good looks that you didn't usually see outside of porn. Evan and the lieutenant had sprung to attention, and the general had blandly ignored the fact that certain parts of them were a little more sprung than others. Instead, he'd cast his eye around the room until it lit on a couple of open beer cans on Evan's desk.

"Have you two been drinking?" he asked.

They whipped out "Yes, sir"s in unison.

The general nodded. "Bathroom duty for three weeks for unbecoming conduct while intoxicated," he said. His eyes met Evan's. "Meet me in my office in an hour or two when you're sober." Then he'd left, allowing Evan and his friend time to get each other off a couple times each before Evan had to shower and go to the general's office for what turned out to be a routine meeting.

If Evan had told some of his civilian friends this story, they'd have been outraged. It wasn't that Evan couldn't see their point: his punishment had been discriminatory. If that general had walked in on Evan with a woman, he'd probably have apologized for the intrusion and left without another word. But Evan hadn't been discharged from the service, dishonorably or otherwise; he hadn't been exposed in public; he'd been _lucky_, because officers like that one followed rules to the letter, and that meant neither slacking on them _nor_ exceeding them.

The ones to really watch out for were the commanders who came off all friendly and buddy-buddy. Those were the ones who actually believed that trust and unit cohesion meant no secrets, and they saw not sharing personal information as an act of betrayal.

Evan had pegged Sheppard as the second type within five minutes of meeting him. Probably gay, too, but that didn't matter. The buddy-buddy types weren't any more likely to forgive a subordinate's secrets just because they had some of their own.

So Evan played it safe, albeit with some regrets. He'd rather ignore the appreciative glances he caught from various quarters than be booted off Atlantis, and Sheppard was just the wrong type of stubborn for Weir to have much sway over him when it came to things that Sheppard considered strictly military affairs.

It wasn't as though Evan had a shortage of activities to keep him occupied. The Wraith, the Genii, random other belligerents, Ancient tech acting up... Atlantis was a busy place. On slower days, i.e. the ones where no one and nothing was _actively_ trying to kill them, he had his art, the small library of books he'd brought with him from Earth, and the much larger collection of porn kept in a shared folder on Atlantis's servers. Zelenka had given him the password over breakfast his second week on Atlantis, quirking a wry smile at him that Evan couldn't help but return.

That was another thing that helped make up for not getting laid: the scientists here tended to be a lot friendlier than they were back on Earth. Not that Evan had a problem making friends with guys in the service; if he did, he would've gotten out a long time ago. But it made a nice change to spend time occasionally with civilians or, for that matter, with Ronon, who was military but not Earth military. It helped keep life interesting.

Still, pretty much all of those friendships involved eating meals together, or possibly getting together for a movie or a game of cards or racketball. Answering his door to find Ronon looming casually on the other side was different.

"Hey. Mind if I come in?" Ronon asked.

Evan stepped aside. "Sure."

Ronon waited until the door had closed behind him to say, "Sheppard said I should just go ahead and ask you out, only he doesn't want to hear about it if you say, 'Yes.'"

"Okay." Evan blinked. "That's pretty direct." Not that he hadn't been propositioned--successfully--with even less finesse before, but that had usually been for a one-off, not for a date.

Ronon shrugged. "I haven't dated in a really long time. This probably isn't going to work out anyway, so I figure I might as well just go for it."

His eyes drifted towards the bed, and Evan abruptly realized that their slight disconnect was a problem with translation. He didn't know much about how Satedan society had worked--there were more than enough living cultures in Pegasus to familiarize himself with, especially when his best source of information on Sateda gave out pretty strong vibes of not wanting to talk about it. But Satedans apparently didn't have strong taboos against jumping into bed together on the first date. Hell, that might be what defined a first date; the Pegasus galaxy had few STIs, most of them annoying rather than dangerous, and the constant threat of Wraith cullings tended to devalue marriage and monogamy.

"I'm okay with that," Evan assured him and locked the door.

Ronon's mouth moved in a way that wasn't quite a smile, but was something close, and headed for the bed without another word, peeling his shirt over his head as he went.

Evan watched the smooth play of muscles under Ronon's skin unashamedly. He'd already suffered nearly two years' worth of celibacy, and he was planning to enjoy the hell out of this encounter. Even better than that, though, were the implications of Ronon's offer. Sheppard might be dangerously unpredictable in a lot of ways, but he looked out for his own. Unless Evan completely broke Ronon's heart--which A) he wasn't the type of guy to do that if he could help it, and B) he kind of got the impression that Ronon's heart came pre-broken--he didn't have anything else to worry about from his commanding officer. For the first time in a long while, all the tension Evan carried was the pleasurable and very welcome sort caused by the gorgeous and now naked guy waiting for him in his bed.


End file.
